


they died because god said they must (the new world needed room for me and you)

by pleasesupplymewithyourwahoos



Series: The Fantastically Enthralling and Overwhelmingly Complicated Misadventures of a Bard, A Wolf, 2 Sorceresses, a 14 year old and a Horse - As Chronicled by the Students and Faculty of Oxenfurt Academy [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, no beta we burn like sodden, with a hopeful ending tho so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22920571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasesupplymewithyourwahoos/pseuds/pleasesupplymewithyourwahoos
Summary: A brief history of Bards and Wolfs
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Fantastically Enthralling and Overwhelmingly Complicated Misadventures of a Bard, A Wolf, 2 Sorceresses, a 14 year old and a Horse - As Chronicled by the Students and Faculty of Oxenfurt Academy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646692
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	they died because god said they must (the new world needed room for me and you)

Geralt hadn’t asked for this. He had been perfectly content up in Kaer Morhen with Vesemir and his brothers. He hadn’t asked to be sent to his aunt, to have an annoying bard as a roommate. He hadn’t wanted said roommate to follow him into danger.  
“You can still turn back now.”

The short boy shook his head in disbelief. Jaskier had never had any sense of self-preservation, and he certainly hadn’t decided to develop one now.

“And miss this golden opportunity for new inspiration? In your dreams.”

“Hmm.”

The bard had followed him everywhere. By some cruel trick of fate, he had almost all of his classes with him. Now could Geralt, as Pavetta had pointed out several times, have simply pushed the bard out of his way with literally no effort? Yes. Does this imply that Geralt, had in fact, grown fond of the small, chirpy, lively, bard with eyes as blue as an untouched lake, a voice as smooth and sweet as honey-

As he said, Geralt didn’t like the bard.

He’d heard the rumors. That Jaskier had been bullied and ridiculed before Geralt had arrived. That he only hung around the mutant for inspiration, fame and fortune. For protection. Geralt didn’t care of course, why would he? But he still held back around these kids. The older witchers had always told him. Nothing good comes meddling in the affairs of man.

Now if Geralt had seen some older boys hurting the bard, he might have yelled at them, scared them away. He might’ve carried the bard back to their dorm, and dressed his wounds. He might’ve found out where the boys sat at lunch and nonchalantly threatened them with the mercy of death if he ever found them looking at the bard again.

But that didn’t mean anything.

“Admit it, you made a friend.” Pavetta had teased, while Geralt had helped her set up the display for the daily specials at Cintra.  
“Hmmm.”  
“That’s not a no.”

Perhaps he had grown fond of the bard. First impressions weren’t always accurate after all. Their’s certainly was ... interesting to say the least.

_“Oi, fuck off!” Jaskier had yelled at some of the boys pelting food at him._

_Geralt had of course noticed, how could he have not? If he had shot those boys a glare so piercing that it made them want to shit their pants, that was none of anyone’s business. IF he felt a sudden flush, a certain anxiety flowing through his body as he saw the bard come near him, that meant nothing._

_“C’mon, you don’t want to leave a man with … bread in his pants waiting? Why don’t you introduce yourself?” The bard sat down in front of him, excitedly._

_“... It’s onion.”_  
_“Nice to meet you- wait did you say onion?”_  
_“The smell! The smell is-”_  
_“Ah yes, you smell of death, destiny, heroics and heartbreak-”_  
_“It’s onion.”_  
_“Oh. Huh.”_

Geralt snapped out of his memories as he heard a small sniffle coming from inside his room. He cleared his throat a couple of times, and heard a scuffle and some mumbled apologies, before Jaskier threw the door open, smile wide, but eyes still red.

“Geralt! What are you doing back so early? Didn’t you have rugby with Ren-?”  
“What happened?”

Jaskier looked sheepish, staring at his feet, unable to look Geralt in the eye.

“It’s nothing, Geralt, really-”  
“What. Happened?”  
“I just- Letters from home arrived.” He mumbled.

Geralt stared at Jaskier’s bed in confusion. Strewn papers, some pamphlets for some summer camp- oh.

If after that day, Geralt filtered through Jaskier’s letters to weed out anything unsavory, no one needed to know.

If, one fine summer day, Jaskier had braided flowers into Geralt’s hair, singing and dancing with Pavetta and Renfri, eyes crinkled with laughter, so happy, so bright, that Geralt could swear his heart beat thrice as fast-

Well, no one needed to know.

If Geralt had held Jaskier, stroked his back, whispered comforts into his hair, as the bard wept and cried after Renfri’s disappearance, no one needed to know.

If he nearly squealed for joy for Jaskier kissed him on the night before, if he ran after him all the way to the dorms, only to find him long gone, no one needed to know.

If he felt his heart break into a million little glass shards when he saw Jaskier giggling, whispering to that knight friend of Yen’s on the next day’s dragon hunt, when he saw him picking flowers and showing them to the knight excitedly, no one needed to know.

If Geralt had been given a time machine to change anything he wanted to, he’d have picked this moment. Yen storming away from him after ‘the incident’, the bard running towards him excitedly, Geralt seeing red, not thinking straight-

“Geralt! I was looking for you-”  
“Dammit Jaskier!” He turned on his bard in a fit of fury. “Why is it whenever I find I’m in a pile of shit these days, it’s you, shoveling it?”

The bard’s face fell, eyes wide with horror, tears welling up in the corners of the piercing baby blue-

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”

Geralt and Jaskier stared at each other for a minute, before Jaskier straightened himself up, looking Geralt in the eyes, coldly.

“See you around, Geralt.” A small crown of dandelions and buttercups falling to the ground as the bard marched down the mountain, Geralt trying to call after him, to tell him it was all a misunderstanding-

Jaskier had already left Oxenfurt by the time Geralt made it back. He tried calling him for so long. Those first few days to try and explain, a few months later after Pavetta died, to try to explain his plight, but he never picked up, until one day Geralt called, only to find he’d been blocked.

If he cried himself to sleep that night, no one needed to know.

If his heart rose, only to be shattered again, when he saw Jaskier ten years later, when he ignored him, refused to look him in the eye, no one needed to know.

But he couldn’t give up. He had a second chance now, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it go.

**Author's Note:**

> i regret nothing (everything)


End file.
